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#foolish babbles
foolishlovers · 2 months
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some writing news: i’ll start posting my teachers boarding school au!!
it’s gonna be a long slow burn friends to lovers story with aziraphale (happily) and crowley (rather reluctantly) teaming up to lead their school’s new theatre club.
there’ll be plenty student shenanigans, lots of pining and a good mixture of fluff and angst!!
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tooshberry · 14 days
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Moments like this while duo q-ing <3
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y-rhywbeth2 · 3 months
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Huh.
Ketheric Thorm: "True Soul! I was so hoping to thank you in person. [...] Isobel. You brought my daughter back to me. She's being introduced to the Absolute as we speak. Soon it will be as though we were never apart. You have our thanks for your part in our reunion." Player: "She wasn't overly keen on a reunion." Ketheric Thorm: "She was always stubborn. She clung to Selûne even after her mother's death."
This dude's never had the time of day for deities, has he?
Also:
Ketheric: "...Aylin was her name - an angel of Selûne's own brood, sent to guide and guard my line. Until she failed me."
HUH. My vague foundation for a headcanon about Isobel being pledged to the Moonmaiden (by her mother's request, I seem to recall) because her birth was considered some kind of blessing from Selûne, and Ketheric summarily losing his shit when Selûne doesn't give her back strengthens...
"The knight pledged to my service failed to protect my daughter from [mysterious danger] and so I decided that the only course of action was to imprison her in eternal torment." - one of many totally reasonable thought processes passing through Ketheric's brain, right next to; "razing the entire world is a legitimately rational response to the loss of a child and everybody else would do the same in my shoes."
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give me a Jing Yuan fueled by spite. give me a Jing Yuan whose words absolutely drip with venomous sarcasm. give me a Jing Yuan who speaks with fangs bared. give me a Jing Yuan who looks down at you like he just might be considering how to best rip into your throat and tear it out. give me a Jing Yuan so fucking angry the static in the air causes metal to spark.
Jing Yuan is so good and so generous and so kind, give me a Jing Yuan that shows more of his negative aspects bc ohhhhh my god he is so done with everything I think he deserves to snap a little I want a scary Jing Yuan I want a bitter Jing Yuan do u get me
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weavewilled · 7 months
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i still have these bingos in my inbox and i promise they'll be answered tomorrow !! it's nearing midnight and i need to go become a pumpkin bc i become a gremlin after midnight whether i'm fed or not and no one wants to see that
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boggleoflight · 26 days
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Squenix personally victimizing me by waiting for a night when I cannot sleep to do maintenance.
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sharkiethedork · 10 months
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Hi so I finished reading A Beautifully Foolish Endeavor by Hank Green the other day and I really enjoyed it! I do have a couple rambley nitpicks on how I thought the story was gonna go but I don't know anyone else who's read these books yet so I'm gonna throw it out here into the void. so spoilers below! (I do highly recommend these two books though so if you do read them we can talk about them hehe)
Okay I was SURE that the text that Miranda got from Maya about the the dresses was actually from Carl's Brother/One dgsdfgs like! I was reading that part and right when Miranda starts speculating on what Maya meant by that, I had a really incredible moment of dread when I remembered that, oh shit, April chucked Maya's phone out of the car earlier! I thought One got ahold of the phone or signal or whatever and sent that text to make Miranda feel bad and start doubting her friends so she would get mixed up in Altus easier! I believe Carl gives Maya her phone back in the next chapter and I was kind of waiting for that reveal to be made for a good chunk of the book, but then Maya said that she did send that text when she rescues Miranda from the Altus space. (And for a moment, that also made me wonder if that was actually a fake out too! But that wouldn't make much sense for One to do since Miranda didn't know they'd be coming to get her then anyway)
Which, isn't a problem and I know the whole book wasn't always strictly chronological so that's fine. Maybe I'm just a sucker for when the villain completely plays the protagonists (which, to be fair, was the case when it came to the Thread so I did get what I wanted in that way lol) but I was very slightly disappointed that my foreshadowing senses were slightly off there haha
And secondly. I was positive Robin was gonna die at some point lol. He's the only member of the gang who didn't have any chapters in the book, and Andy said something to the affect of "I never learned more about why Robin has issues with dating" after their heart-to-heat scene (Which was a scene I really adored btw). It just turns out that Robin just kinda...stopped showing up about 3/4th the way though.
While I definitely get that it probably wasn't feasible to have a SIXTH narrator in the book, and as an aspirational writer with a few minor projects under my belt I'm very aware that sometimes you just end up having a character that just kinda doesn't have anything to do later on and falls to the wayside, Robin's absence did kind of feel like a missed opportunity. Robin's reveal that he knew April's agent whos name escapes me soz was also working for Petrawiki was the partial catalyst that led to April "dying" in the first book, and he makes it clear to Andy that he's wracked with guilt about it. If I recall, the only interaction we get between him and April is that she hugs him when he shows up at the penthouse, and I'm pretty sure that scene ends up being his last appearance or at least his last major one. I think it would have been great if some time was spent in an April chapter where they make up. It's fine if April has forgiven him since then, but having some closure between them on the page would have been really great. Oh well.
At the very least when it comes to him not being a narrator, I can easily imagine them asking Robin to help write the book but he's just like "Hey it was your guys' job to do all the work on the ground, my job is to be your agent and get it out there, let me do that well."
Other than those two frankly minor nitpicks I thought ABFE was really good! I wish I had read them sooner but they came out while I was in the middle of my like five years where I didn't read shit, and also I hadn't been paying much attention to Nerdfighteria so I was only vaguely aware of the books for a while. I think I slightly prefer An Absolutely Remarkable Thing although I'm not super sure why I do, but you can't just stop at the first one!
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vilwil-brr · 2 years
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sorry I’m brain dead watching foolish’s stream and losing my mind every time I see gtws for even a second
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carcharadroid · 2 years
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I want to feel motivated to draw my worgen and my cat boy in the same room because the negative braincells that’d result would be immaculate
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mondaymelon · 1 month
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₊⊹ "𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐨, 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝…" | xiao, childe, alhaitham x gn!reader
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「 "𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐚𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮!!"」
— in which you've gotten drunk... drunk enough to fail to recognize your own lover.
— silly fluff. soft xiao, had this one in the drafts for far too long and its about time i choke it out... happy white day !!
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the moment your slurred words reached his ears, XIAO knew that he never should've let you get your hands on that cursed rice wine.
in a way, he supposed it could be his fault. the one time he had decided to indulge in trivial mortal matters like alcohol due to your constant insistence... well, just look at you.
red-faced, the tips of your ears and cheeks stuck in a helplessly drunken flush, you babbled incoherently with half of your face smushed against the table. xiao could only stare in contempt as you feebly reached towards the already-emptied bottle,
( xiao had taken one sip and refused any more indulgence, claiming it was bitter, when in fact, you had gone out of your way to find a sweeter drink ),
and sigh, massaging the bridge of his nose with a certain disillusionment.
"come on, you're getting to bed." the man was just about done with your hopeless actions. he grabbed your wrist and tugged, only to be met with resistance. you're pouting like a child, brows furrowed lazily as you stare upwards at him.
"nnno. m'not going with you."
"...excuse me?" what in the archons was the problem now? he tugged again, this time with a small margin of force, and was met with an even larger pull back, this time paired with a low whine. "hey, it's late, and all the wine is gone, so just comply with me won't you?"
"i already told you... i have a husband..."
your complaint met the cool night air and the adeptus' silence. his lips were slightly parted as his round eyes blinked once, then twice, in a sort of stunned stupor. "...love, i am that husband."
archons, how had he found himself such a foolish mortal to love?
"don't lie to me!" you shook your head profusely, wiggling around in his grasp relentlessly until the adeptus had no choice but to let go. "i know my husband when i see him... and he's way handsomer than you, stupid..." you stared him up and down with squinting eyes, eyeing the way his ears were beginning to turn pink, and sat heavily in thought as you pondered the man before you.
definitely not your husband.
idiot. with a huff, he easily hauled your body over his shoulder as if carrying something as trivial as a sack of potatoes. you hung loosely over, landing a couple weak punches on his back as you proceeded to prattle on, your defiance seemingly having little effect.
then, you were silent, and xiao had to look back to make sure you hadn't gotten hurt. sure, he had considered once or twice leaving you out there all passed out on the balcony, but not without reason, yet he'd decided against it. you seemed fine, mouth hung slightly ajar as you snoozed peacefully, your eyes shut and cheeks still warm from what you'd downed. the audacity to fall asleep... xiao couldn't deny that his sigh was one of fondness.
"night, this husband of yours loves you."
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strange, wasn't the wine from liyue supposedly far less intense compared to the vodka CHILDE had tried back home?
that, or the people here simply were more susceptible when it came to the topic of intoxication. you were no exception — he'd taken you out drinking, his mistake, thinking it'd be an easy, splendid time.
and don't get him wrong, it was! not just, well... conversation was rather hard to make when the other person was practically unconscious. you're practically splayed across the mahogany table, eyes nearly drooped close and fire across your cheeks.
you giggled. it's a muddled sound, when you're mostly mumbling into the table. "hhhey, pour me another glass~"
childe scans your less-than-ideal state and procures an answer in a little under a second. "love, you've had too many."
you seem shocked at his words, leaning forwards a little with narrowed eyes. your figure sways as you shake your head lazily, from side to side. "wwhhhat? nnno, that can't be right..."
the man holds back an amused chuckle. it's entertaining. "and how many fingers am i holding up?" he holds up just one hand, displaying a reasonable amount of three.
there's a beat of silence. "...nineteen?" you blink a couple times, as if to shake you out of your stupor. "...nineteen," this time, with confidence.
childe claps his hands together, a sudden sound that makes you startled, and he moves to apologize immediately. "we're getting you to bed, love. clearly you've had more alcohol than you can handle."
"what, was i wrong??" there's tears forming in your eyes, and your lips tug downwards in a frown. "u-uhm, fifteen? nno, four...?"
"still incorrect, love. i'm afraid it's time for you to go to sleep. you'll wake up with a hell of a hangover tomorrow morning, but..." he sighed, thinking back to his time in shneznaya, then made a mental note to prepare you a hangover drink in the morning. his hand found its familiar place in your hand, unnaturally warm with your skin rosy from the alcohol. he smiled, turning to glance at you, but ceased when he saw you on the ground, tears now falling from your eyes, quietly sobbing as you shook your head back and forth.
panic immediately sets in. what has he done wrong?? "love, what-"
"nnnno, don't call me that..." you squinted upwards at him, looking quite displeased. "no 'love', 'kaaay? i'm not your love, mister."
he paused. wait, you didn't possibly think that... "love-" oh, old habits died hard, and the word had already left his lips before he could process what you'd said.
"i have a husband, you!!" in some sort of fit, or perhaps better worded as a tantrum, you stood, wrenching yourself from his grip and then hitting him repeatedly in the shoulders, chest, anywhere your fists could reach, really. the alcohol had surely affected your capabilities of combat — you missed half the time, and what punches did land caused no pain at all.
as your anger subsided, your step faltered, body swaying in the open air before childe reached over to catch you in his arms. he was concerned, naturally. "lov- are you alright?" his worry only grew when he heard no response, but it ebbed with a chuckle when he saw you were already fast asleep in his arms, snoozing without a care in the world.
"a husband, hm? whoever it is, he must quite be the gentleman..."
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ALHAITHAM knew his night was fated to end in idiocy the moment you knocked on his door.
it didn't even strike him that you were holding wine, of all things, when you waltzed into his house like it was your own. sure, it wasn't as if these occasions weren't frequent, but really anyone would be surprised to glance up from a quiet reading session only to see their (annoying) lover pressed against the door, repeatedly calling out his name in a sing-song, satire-like voice.
like... calling a cat. it was a realization he made with not too much contentment. silently, he thanked the archons that kaveh was not home — they knew that he could not handle the both of you.
it was only when you sat down at his table, where he'd been reading up to the point when you barged in, that he noticed. green-tinted glass, a little wind motif on the front... dandelion wine from mondstadt. now, just how did you get your hands on that?
"connections," you had stated. with a note of pride, he might add. what, was he supposed to congratulate you on being able to talk to other people? even he, a person who generally hated people, could do that.
ah, but he didn't hate it. your voice, that is, when you rambled on for hours on end. he didn't have the heart to interrupt you, especially when you were so heated on a topic — be it work troubles, an especially annoying sailor, or you accidentally dropping your pita pocket into the water when walking along the port, he didn't mind.
"...mmbottle. haaithammm, the bottle..." your drunk complaints reach his ears, and he his irritation is more so disrupted with inward amusement as he watches you in the predicament you've landed yourself in.
"the bottle?" he questions, raising an eyebrow. his hands are crossed over his chest; he's clearly getting a ruse out of this. "just what would you need the bottle for, love?"
your eyebrows scrunch together. he can tell your brain is working at its max capacity. "...im. thirsty?"
"you've already drunk two thirds of this bottle." he holds said bottle high above your head, hopelessly far from your reach. "if you're so thirsty, drink water."
"i don wanna."
"..."
"just... one drop?"
"hah..." he pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply, and places a hand on your shoulder. you barely react, and don't even glance at the sudden weight. "love, you're staying over. you're going to bed."
"bed...?" horror crosses your face, paired with evident irritation. "y...you, who do you think you are, to suggest such things!?" your face is bright red, and you're hugging yourself with one arm and pointing an accusing finger towards the male with the other. "i have a husband!!"
ah. "...what's his name?"
"and why do youuuu want to know?" you narrow your eyes suspiciously at him, but seem to come up with an answer to your own question, for you answer him anyhow. "haitham."
"do you love this 'haitham'?" alhaitham's enjoying himself. when he teases the sober you, all you do is retort back, but now... he can see your flustered expression on full display as you stammer out an answer.
"o-of course! a-and, if you wanted to know, he's waaaaay handsomer.. than ... you..."
just like that, you topple over and sink into the couch, knocked unconscious. a trace of a smile crosses alhaitham's lips as he looks at your sleeping form.
"fortunately for you, this 'haitham' you speak of loves you too."
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(a/n) bye i was gonna add kaveh to this one too but i realized oh fuck its white day i said id post a month ago what the fuck am i doing so i just like regurgitated this out and spat it onto your dashboard. ahodfjlds
tags (id paste the aesthetic thing but i cant find it so we're just gonna roll w this):
@manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @ @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader,@fiannee, @aether-darling, @ceneid, @avensuersa, @solxima
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foolishlovers · 1 month
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i'm writing a new chapter for my current good omens wip (wild hearts) rn and i'm just having such a wonderful time writing pining!crowley
wilds hearts is a slow burn fic set at a boarding school in tadfield. at the start of a new school year, english teacher!aziraphale convinces biology teacher!crowley to lead the school's theatre club together. he agrees to it rather reluctantly but there's not a lot crowley would deny his best friend/ the person he's been silently in love with for six years...
featuring teen!the them and warlock + plenty student shenanigans, fluff, angst, and eventual smut
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tooshberry · 24 days
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"all of a sudden red isn't just red, it's scarlet actually"
i looove their banters so much like tina's so quick to come up with comebacks and he just lets her roast him lmao <3
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kleftiko · 11 months
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❦ FAMILY MEN
ft. kita, suna, atsumu, osamu
MASTERLIST
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—kita
another long and exhausting week. because your husband always gets up early and comes back late everyday because of his work, and you watch the baby all day, you both are dead to the world when you sleep until you hear the cries of your child. it’s instinct; so when you didn’t hear the baby in the middle of the night, you woke up anyway with worry. only to find shinsuke bouncing them, his lips singing a soft and out of tune lullaby that took you back to your childhood. you know for a fact that your child didn’t cry that night, your husband just wanted to hold them while they slept, despite his tired eyes, he wouldn’t trade that moment for the world.
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—suna
“no, i’m mom’s favourite.” your husband argued rather vehemently with your son as you ate dinner together. it was endearing to listen to, especially because of the fact that your son couldn’t speak. his baby babbling created bubbles of his food along his mouth. rintaro shook his head and wiped him with the napkin.
“yea, right, i’m way better at volleyball than you.” he scoffed at his kid. “that’s why your mom fell in love with me in the first place.”
“rin,” you couldn’t help but laugh. “stop it.”
he sent you an innocent smile before turning to the baby again, he made sure you could see him mouth ‘you won’t beat me.’
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—atsumu
if you couldn’t find your toddler, she was with her dad. today, they were in the garage, atsumu had arm and chest day, he sat on the bench, daughter in his arms as he curled her. despite the smile on his lips, his breathing and counting were even, only interrupted by her continuous giggles as she squirmed in his hold. when the set was done, he set her down and you saw them look at each other with stars in their eyes.
“’m gonna be as strong as you when i grow up!” she told him.
“hell yea!” atsumu raised his hand and your little girl jumped to smack is hand.
“hell yea!” she repeated and atsumu’s face dropped.
“…don’t tell yer mum i taught’cha that.”
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—osamu
“ya gotta shape it with love, baby.” he told his daughter, hands full of rice as they stood in the kitchen.
your daughter pouted, fingers stuck with rice as she glared at the tuna filling that fell on the cutting board. “i make with hate.” she said and you couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
“yer too much like yer mum—go sit down.” osamu shooed her to you, and she happily obliged as she ate the rice off her fingers.
“why’d you do that, baby?” you asked and pet her head. “you’re great at this.”
“daddy makes the best onigiri.” she smiled at you before turning back to her father and watched him work. “i want him to cook for me my whole life.”
she clearly didn’t mean for him to hear, but you could see the foolish smile tugging at his lips.
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You are the young, newly-widowed spouse of the foolish and disliked noble who started this devastating war at the border; when a mix of common folk and soldiers drag you from your bed you are already resigned to whatever fate they have chosen for you. You are dragged out in your sheer silk nightwear and forced to your knees in the mud of the main road. Glancing up you see the figures opposite, the enemy, the great hulking orcs your husband angered. Above you, you hear frantic talking - frantic, useless. None of you speak their tongue.
Finally, in desperation, you crawl forward and bow your head, pulling your hair aside to bare your neck. Surely that cannot be misunderstood. You are willing to give your life for peace. The townspeople are hardly going to let you live either way.
(You are the chieftain of an orc clan reluctantly drawn into this skirmish as a matter of honour, and when the humans drag out a small, helpless one of their own and offer it you hesitate. It is dressed in silk and wears jewels at its neck and throat, which means it is important. As grotesque as the practice is to you, your sense of pride, you know they often exchange hostages between themselves. You glance at your second, who visibly rolls her eyes but nods. Any excuse to go home.)
The orcs do not kill you there and then, but take you; you cannot tell yet if that is a mercy or a misfortune. You are bound at the wrists and ankles and flung over an orc soldier's shoulder like a sack of grain, and passed between many of them during the journey. In their own language they joke and laugh as they pass you over, sometimes pinching at the bare skin of your thigh where your clothes have hitched up.
At their camp you are deposited in the tent of the chieftain. You have heard rumours of what they do with captives, and between being ravaged until broken or eaten alive you do not know what to hope for. You merely lie there, limp and trembling slightly, until you hear the sound of someone entering. The hulking orc chieftain looks at you, tusked face unreadable, then drags you upright by a fistful of your hair to briefly press a flask to your lips. When you have gulped nearly all the water he drops you, grunts and leaves. He does not return to the tent the entire night. You know this, because the low buzzing terror in the back of your mind doesn't let you sleep.
(You hardly know what to do with the little thing. Your comrades say it is easy to carry but odd, it is full grown by the look of it but doesn't struggle at all or even try to bargain in its babbling little language. Maybe it is unwell. You order it placed in your tent and give it water yourself, but it shows no more signs of life, dull-eyed and staring at nothing. You decide to let it sleep and go back outside to drink until you pass out under the stars and the warm summer skies.)
On the second night you are taken to a river before camp, and following the example of those around you, you wash yourself; as you return to the riverbank you find your clothes gone. The orcs watch you, even the smallest of them half-again your size. You swallow your fear and walk naked back to the chieftain's tent. Once there you lower yourself to your hands and knees on the bedroll, bare skin still damp from the water. You cannot stop him from taking you, but perhaps it will hurt less or be over faster if you comply.
The orcs chieftain makes a brief, almost hissing sound at the sight of you, but does not leave this time. Their hand brushes across your back and you can feel their claws retracting. They touch and inspect you like a prize hound and you keep your eyes to the ground, tears of shame welling up. Then he presses two large, blunt fingers inside you, and you brace yourself. He fingerfucks you lazily for a minute or so before suddenly growling something you don't understand and turning you on your back, so you scramble to reposition yourself and hold your legs wide. He cradles your face in both his hands as he slowly sinks his swollen cock into you, larger than you think you could ever take and stretching you painfully yet unable to look away from his face. Your husband used to force you to look at him like this only when he wanted to watch you cry, so you brace yourself for the firm hold to turn into hard slaps that leave your ears ringing.
(The little thing washes with the others and you are approaching the tent with an armful of fabric in what you hope is close to their size when you are hit with the unexpected sight of them uncovered in your tent, positioned as any orc begging to be bred would be. You have to smother a gasp and restrain yourself; it has been too long, and little thing's fragile shape and delicate features are somehow all the more appealing for their strangeness. But you were raised well, taught that all parties must agree before partners bed each other; you don't know their tongue to ask them. You seek permission from their body language instead, first touching their back, the curve of their ass and leg, then with tentative fingers in their soft tight little hole. They do not flinch or try to flee, and they wetten for your fingers. Surely you can continue? Forgetting yourself you ask out loud.)
You wait to be hit. It doesn't happen. You wait to used rough and hurt inside; it doesn't happen either.
The looming figure of the great orc warrior above you moves with an almost incongruous care, pressing into you slowly and then simply resting there until your body becomes accustomed enough to his huge cock that he can start to move without tearing you. It's almost as if his gaze on your face is tracking the small hitched breaths or softening of your expression to know when he can begin to carefully thrust. Yet that makes no sense to you. Men have never used you so gentle, why would a savage orc do so?
He is big enough it does hurt some little but that sensation is soon overwhelmed by another, unfamiliar and disorienting; a low heat building your abdomen, a curl of pleasure that makes you whimper. Another growl comes in response, so you try to quieten, but his expression - it is so hard to read, so different, but he does not look angry.
(You are confused and troubled, but the tight heat of the little thing is so perfect around your cock. They are acting like a new prospective mate, taking your body like a mate would, but when you watch their face to try and find the answers you'd normally seek out loud there is something missing. You fuck them very gently, as such delicate pretty things should be treated, and forget yourself enough to apologise out loud when they whimper. You promise them in words they don't know that you want to make them feel good, you will stop if they struggle even once, that they are safe with you.)
The orc chief finishes with a single deep thrust and you can feel your abdomen swell with how filled you are, a little of their cum already beginning to leak down your thighs. He pulls away and you instinctively curl in on yourself, protective - the sound he makes in response is urgent but more distressed than angry. He paws at you to uncurl, look at him again; as you tilt your face up and force your body to relax he huffs and lowers his great head between your legs. Before you can even process it his rough tongue is on you, and you can feel the smooth dangerous weight of his tusks against your inner thighs. The rush of banked pleasure is equally unexpected, as he coaxes a climax from you that leaves you shaking. Afterward you are gathered up like a doll in his arms, and for the first time in three days actually believe you may be safe. Very, very, tentatively, you reach for his face and pause halfway in question.
(The little thing flinches only afterwards, but it does flinch and you immediately fight back a rush of guilt and worry. Rank be damned, the clan will not stand for taking any person unwilling, even a human one. You try to comfort them with small touches, check their face for signs of what's wrong. They are unreadable. You check between their legs and can tell they did not quite find pleasure yet, so quickly duck your head to correct it. Perhaps that is what was wrong, because when their body responds they do not flinch away from being held close. They even reach for your face, and after you nod encouragingly they trace their tiny fingers over the ridges of your skin and kiss nervously at the smooth curve of your tusk. You thrill, but say nothing; maybe they have no idea what an intimate gesture that is. You just happily nestle close.)
You were the young, newly-widowed spouse of the foolish and disliked noble who started this devastating war at the border; now, it seems, you are claimed by the warrior chief who bested him and the bedmate of a mighty orc who is gentler with you than said husband ever was and - slightly endearingly - buries his face in the crook of your neck with a low rumbling sound not unlike a purr when sleepy and post-coital.
.
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lonelystarrs · 5 months
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𝑭𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒀𝒐𝒖
𝘚𝘶𝘬𝘶𝘯𝘢 𝘙𝘺𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
Warnings: 18+ MDNI + virginity loss + sukuna is a warning + fluff if you squint + dubcon + rough smut +
From my ao3 story Him & I But this can be read as a stand alone.
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“Keep clenching like this and I ain’t getting my dick in there, let go of my fucking fingers need you wetter than this.”
He spoke against the inside of your thigh over his bite marks, his hot breath against the wet of your skin his tongue left.
“f-fuck, I can’t cum anymore.”
“Is that a challenge?” You knew that tone, he wasn’t happy and even though he was daring you to challenge him he would still punish you regardless, “-what a foolish thing to do.”
“-kuna no, please, I-“
“You’re rewarding my consideration and patience with whining?”
He pulled his fingers from you, covered with slick and drool, his chin glistened from his greediness on eating you out.
You were sore already, it wasn’t the first time he was stretching you out like this on his fingers, he’d been training you into it for the last few weeks ever since you first kissed.
“Tch, unlucky brat my patience has run out.”
His hand that jerked himself off guided himself to your cunt, smearing the drool and slick around to your clit.
“Look at your face, worried I’ll split you in half?”
His smirk turned menacing, the head of his cock catching at your hole and he planted both hands either side of your head, hovering you with the reds of his eyes glowing.
“I will and you’re going to cum over my dick, you’re going to be grateful I’m even giving you it.”
The stretch was vile, it made you tense up and try to pull away but Sukuna dropped to his elbows, pinning you under him as his hips pushed, bullying his cock in to stretch you open and it wasn’t easy. You weren’t letting him in as easily as he wanted, as much as he could just drive himself forward he found himself wanting to saviour your struggle.
There was a small part of him, an annoying niggle that was out of his character, that made him want to ease you into it, let you adjust. His pride was screaming at him to drive himself to fill you, not caring if he hurt you.
But it was so easily drowned out by this small part of him that was willing to give you time. This fucked up effect you had his existence was bothersome.
Your head tilted back, a moan echoed from you yet tears pricked at your eyes, falling not long after as you sobbed under him, your nails biting into his wrists as you panicked, reaching out to grip whatever you could.
“It hurts, fuck- Sukuna -I can’t- I’m full, s’too much-“
His mouth moved to your ear, smirking against it amused at your babbling. He’d never heard you so whiny, so unable to form words.
“Gambare, Gambare-“ he chuckled, his breath travelling down your skin causing bumps to rise and your body to shudder, “- you’ve sucked in four, five inches left brat, you got this.”
“It’s not going to fucking fit!”
He barked a laugh at you snapping at him, dropping his head next to yours as he glanced down to see himself sinking into your cunt but there was resistance, he couldn’t push forward anymore without force.
Your thighs trembled either side of his hips and he felt you starting to shake under him.
“Pathetic, trembling already?”
You sobbed a frustrated moan again, moving your hips to try shift yourself and he clicked his tongue, lifting his head to catch your gaze he watched your eyes for something before he spoke.
“You trust me?”
Your eyes glistened with tears and he frowned, not favouring the feeling his in chest that it stirred seeing it, he didn’t have empathy, he never had consideration for anything besides himself.
Yet that feeling that stirred in him was disgusting, foreign, something he didn’t like because it felt warm, pleasantly so.
“W-What? You know I do,”
He snorted a laugh, red eyes looking down to your lips and leaning down to brush his against yours, speaking against them.
“You’re a fool then.”
He thrust forward, slamming his hips up against yours, forcing the rest of his cock in, his lips pressed to yours to swallow your cry and he moaned into your mouth in reply.
Hips stuttering up into you as you clamped around his cock so tightly it was painful, it only made his cock flex in you and he continued to groan deeply into the kiss.
His tongue filling you messily, only slightly parting to suck in air as he panted into you. Your arms flying to wrap around his neck and pull him into you in some kind of self soothing, trying to keep up with his mouth as a form of distraction.
He stilled in you, your cunt gripping him, so fucking wet and tight that it was coaxing him into blowing his load already.
After all, this was his first time as much as it was your own.
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pseudowho · 6 months
Text
Yet Another Nanami Kento Sex Pollen Fic, Part One
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Owing our Reader for pleasuring him after his prior drunk escapades, Kento allows himself to be thoroughly used after the Reader encounters some rather unusual pollen.
Read Part Two HERE!
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"Hey, darling. Home soon? I was going to run out and grab some wine."
You smiled warmly at Kento's voice over the phone, brushing your mission clothes off with one hand while you surveyed the wreck of your surroundings. The factory you were in seemed ancient, despite its abandonment in just the last decade. Its back wall, you noted, was formed of collapsed brickwork, opening out onto a patch of hazy woodland. You were curious to investigate.
"Soon," you promised Kento, "the main Curse body is gone. I'm just going to do a last sweep around. You know, I--"
"-- like to be thorough," Kento parroted you, knowing you so well. You rolled your eyes at him. Hearing him chuckle, he reassured you, "No, no, I like it. You're thorough. It's a turn-on, I promise." Laughing lightly as you stepped over damp brickwork and ivy, you heard the jangle of Kento's keys over the phone.
"Well, Sir, if I'm that much of a turn-on, you'd best get that wine. I'm ready for our evening." Kento gave you an approving hum, and bid you get home soon.
Hanging up, you stepped into the humidity of what appeared to be a totally enclosed patch of woodland, sprung like an oasis, half-in and half-out of the crumbled factory walls. Beautiful flowers, wild with a heady scent, sprouted from beds of moss and ivy, and low-hanging trees dropped jewels of dew onto the springy floor. You felt yourself becoming heavy-headed and warm. Bending down to inspect a particularly beautiful pink-budded succulent, you squeaked in shock when the buds puffed open into a surprising shade of yellow, coating you in a fine mist of pollen.
Sneezing, you backed away. Bumping against the residual wall, you noticed the forest starting to crumble away from the edges, disintegrating in the same way as the main Curse-body had. With a sinking feeling in your stomach, you recognised you had nearly been so foolish as to walk straight into the remains of its dying belly. Telling yourself off for your gullibility, you watched from the factory as the forest faded away, leaves rising like ashes into the mist.
You felt flushed, heart thumping behind your breasts as you left the factory, finding Ijichi waiting patiently for you outside the veil. Ijichi smiled to you, bowing, thanking you for your services. He held the car door open for you, and you climbed in, grateful for the chance to sit down.
Except, as the car rumbled to life, every small vibration, every graze of the cool leather against your flushed skin, every time you caught the smell of Ijichi's shampoo, you felt the agonising thud of arousal between your legs. You mentally shook yourself when catching yourself looking Ijichi up and down from the back seat, admiring how his hands managed the steering wheel so smoothly, and you were appalled that this wonderful, kind, gorgeous man didn't have a girlfriend yet. Maybe you could be his girlfriend, you thought fleetingly, you'd know how to treat him right--
"Everything okay?" Ijichi caught your eyes in the mirror, full of concern as you gasped at yourself and slapped your own cheeks. Cheeks pink, breasts heaving with deep breaths and underwear increasingly wet, you knew you needed to get home to Kento. There was absolutely nobody else you needed right now, and surely this would wear off, surely he would help you deal with your desire as you had helped with his, in the shower that night--
"I'm okay, Ijichi, I'm fine!" You babbled, arms folded across your chest to hide your pebbled nipples, "Just tired! You know how it is. Busy day." You laughed nervously, hiding your face in shame as Ijichi politely bowed his head and continued to drive you home.
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Kento dropped his keys onto the shelf, slipping out of his shoes and into house slippers as he leaned back against the door, shutting it with a click.
His heart gave a happy leap when he heard you rummaging around the bathroom; you were home. Rolling the wine bottle in his broad palm, he fetched two glasses. In the process of uncorking the bottle, he pretended not to notice as you walked up behind him. He regretted feigning ignorance when he felt sharp teeth nip into the back of his shoulder.
Kento spun, startled, and barely had time to save the open bottle of wine when he was pushed with surprising force back against the table. All thoughts and blood rushed straight to his cock as he felt your body, insistent and hot press against his. Kento offered no resistance at first as you grabbed the back of his neck, fingers sinking into his hair to pull him down for a kiss, but stopped immediately at the feverish and desperate look in your eyes.
Kento gripped your shoulders and held you at arm's length, scowling deeply as he appraised you. Still in mission-wear. Flushed. Eyes glazed. Heat radiating off you.
"You're...hurt? What happened? Tell me." Kento ordered, already moving to grab his keys- you needed Shoko's attention. You moved instantly to block Kento's path, eyes fixed on him and pupils dilated as you panted, arousal thrumming through you in waves, your blood rushing in your ears and between your legs. Not swayed, and firm in his decision, Kento restrained you effortlessly, one arm trapping both of yours behind your back, and another arm diagonally across your breasts.
As Kento's arms pressed your body firmly against his own, you moaned and Kento short-circuited. Not letting go, breath tickling the side of your face, Kento stared at you.
"What happened?" he repeated. You pressed your head back against his shoulder, whimpering in frustration.
"The Curse was very plant-like I suppose, and it had a garden, and these pollen pods just exploded all over me, and since then I've just...I just...god Kento please just fuck me, I'm begging you."
With a blush, it finally clicked for Kento-  you weren't hurt, you were uncontrollably horny. He gulped, his tongue feeling thick in his mouth, and cock hardening against his thigh. In a measured voice, Kento replied.
"You're in no fit state to demand I fuck you. You're under the influence of that curse, and I won't take advantage of you like that."
"Who said anything about you taking advantage?" You whined, rubbing your arse back against his hardening cock, "I'm asking if you'll let me take advantage of you." You squirmed against Kento, one of your pinned hands sneaking between the buttons of his shirt to rub his V-line. Your head turned sharply and you bit Kento's neck hard enough to draw blood. Kento yelped in alarm, now moving you swiftly forwards and pressing you into the wall, using one arm and one knee between your legs to pin you there.
"You minx," he gasped. Wiping at his neck with one hand and holding your wrists in another, Kento watched as you squirmed against the wall, thighs clamped furiously together for relief, blush creeping down your breasts.
"Kento, please," you begged, "I helped you. When you came home, drunk. And you promised you wouldn't refuse me."
"You and I both know that was--"
"It was no different!" Kento let his silence hang in the air. He knew as soon as he let you go, you'd be undressing him in seconds. He was furious to find himself thrilled at the thought. Being used as your toy sounded absolutely delicious.
"If I let you use me for some relief, but it doesn't work, I'll be taking you to Shoko immediately. Understood?" You nodded frantically, hands clenching and unclenching desperately in Kento's grasp. Kento walked you slowly back to the table, and you heard him knock back his glass of wine. You felt a glass placed to your lips, and Kento's smooth voice in your ear, "Bottoms up," as you gulped the wine, the alcohol hitting your heightened senses immediately, and your need for Kento to be buried inside you was suddenly furious and burning.
Kento let go of your wrists, and you jumped him, quite literally, arms locked behind his neck and legs around his waist. Kento grunted in surprise as your lips crashed against his with bruising force, the taste of blood and red wine on his tongue as you forced yours into his mouth, immediately dominant in a way that aroused him to his very core. Kento's hands cupped your arse perfectly, and you shifted your weight so Kento slammed back onto the table, feet on the floor as you straddled him, clothed pussy grinding against his cock.
Kento groaned at the contact, and submitted fully when you pinned his wrists to the table, leaning forward to bite and suck his neck. Kento shivered with pleasure, feeling every mark that he would see in the mirror the next morning. Drunk on the novelty of being so used, Kento offered absolutely no resistance as your hand slipped to his groin, squeezing his clothed erection almost too hard through the thin material. Kento shuddered, coughing in surprise and bucking into your hand.
Your hand left his cock far too soon, and you moved up Kento's body, now pinning his wrists with your knees as you began to undo his tie. Kento watched you with absolute focus as you then began to undress yourself, clothes being flung off at speed, until you were bare breasted on top of him, nipples hard as bullets, and you absent-mindedly draped Kento's tie around your neck as you surveyed him like your favourite meal.
"Oh, fuck," Kento intoned, as you ripped open his shirt, hearing buttons skitter away across the table. Moving down to grind against him again, and replacing your knees on his wrists with your hands, you bit his nipple, leaving lovebites across his heaving chest. Kento's head swam with arousal and anticipation, hands eager to reach you, to give you your own way, to be inside you.
You were focused, predatory in your need, and closed your eyes as you kicked your trousers and underwear off, pussy now totally naked and glistening with your arousal, leaving a wet patch on Kento's groin as you humped his clothed cock fervently. Kento was completely pinned, moaning and gasping as his cock twitched with need. You felt like you were on fire, your clit throbbing as you felt your first orgasm approaching, almost there but not close enough, body and mind still feeling too empty to climax. Your torso leaned closer to Kento's as you tried to increase the pressure and he quickly freed his arms from under yours.
Sliding one hand between your legs, he hurriedly pressed his two middle fingers upwards, deep into the heat and wetness of your pussy, his thumb quickly finding your clit and rubbing harsh circles on it. You cried out and bucked, riding his hand, and Kento nearly came from the feeling of your pussy clenching his fingers alone. You had reached down, both hands holding Kento's wrist, grasping his hand in place as your cunt fluttered around it, wet and needy, your cries becoming higher and louder, desperate to abate the burning arousal that had turned your skin electric.
Kento felt your desperation, watching you, near tears, trying to cum on his fingers. Reaching down, he swiftly unbuttoned his trousers and freed his leaking cock, pressing it up into you without warning, not even removing his fingers, and pinching your clit between his thumb and forefinger.
Your orgasm hit you in hot waves, tears streaming down your cheeks as you called Kento's name over and over, feeling stretched and overfull with his fingers and cock still inside you. Feeling next to no relief post-orgasm, you slammed your hips down on Kento's, chasing the fullness his hand and straining erection gave you.
Kento clenched his teeth as you rode him, refusing to cum until you'd had your fill of him, vision and heart full of you clad in nothing but his tie. One hand remaining between your legs, and the other providing aggressive attention to your breasts and nipples, Kento felt your sweat and cum drip down his balls, groin now soaked with the intoxicating smell of you. He continued rubbing circles on your clit and squeezed his fingers forward against your internal walls, feeling your cervix bump his fingertips, as you shook and shuddered your way through a second orgasm.
Kento removed his hands to grasp your hips, your wetness dropping along his hand. Lifting you up and ramming you back down onto his cock, you slumped forwards onto him, a ragdoll.
Determined to pleasure you until you could barely stand, Kento tilted your hips against his until his cock pumped in and out of you at the perfect angle, his eyes fixed on where his fingers sank into the plush fat of your arse, jiggling as he slammed you down onto him. He hissed as your nails dug crescents into his shoulders, and you pleaded against his chest-- "please please please cum inside me, don't stop, don't stop" -- while his hips bucked you upwards, feet cramping as his toes pressed hard onto the floor, lights in his eyes as he felt his balls and abdomen clench, his approaching orgasm about to overwhelm his stamina. He felt your teeth and hot little pants against his chest.
Your hips couldn't keep up with his pace, hearing his moans rumble through his chest with every thrust, until you felt his cock jump and spurt hot seed inside you, cervix wet and belly warm and full. You lay on top of him, shuddering, feeling the heat in your body gradually dissipate. Kento stroked your hair, strong arms holding you to him, planting soft kisses on top of your head.
"Better?" he inquired, toying with the tie around your neck. You blushed, bashful after your performance, nodding and humming against his neck. "Much," you reassured him. He tapped your bum playfully, "You go shower and get cleaned up. I'll tidy up out here."
You climbed off him with a sigh, feeling his cum drip down your thighs as he slipped out of you, and you padded away to the bathroom.
In a few minutes, sated, sleepy, and feeling the hot water tumble over you, you were struck with a thought. Opening the shower door, you called out to Kento.
"I was just thinking, maybe you shouldn't touch those clothes? There's probably still loads of--" You paused, hearing Kento sneeze and swear in the next room.
A few tense moments passed, the time coiling up in your tummy like snakes, and the bathroom door creaked open slowly. Kento filled the doorway, shoulders tense as he stared you down like you were prey, slowly stroking his rapidly hardening cock.
"Oh shit," you breathed, naked and helpless under the hot water as he approached you, eyes burning with intent.
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REQUEST #1 COMPLETE!
And just think, Kento never even took off his slippers. Get you a man who can rail you like that with his house slippers on.
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